


Waves of Fate

by FlashDriver



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:34:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25843642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlashDriver/pseuds/FlashDriver
Summary: Once a oneshot, now a two chapter story! Following an unfortunate circumstance, a young Blaze the cat finds herself writing a letter to her supposed soulmate. She doesn't believe in the frankly ludicrous tradition surrounding such a bond but when things start to line up years later, foolish thoughts threaten to tear her apart not once but twice.
Relationships: Blaze the Cat/Silver the Hedgehog
Comments: 18
Kudos: 41





	1. Waves of Fate

Beaches were supposed to be happy places, books always described them that way at least. People came to the beach to have fun, to play games and relax. It was supposed place of joy, where smiles supposedly reigned supreme and you could count on the sun parting the clouds to grant a blue sky. 

A grey sky hung over the pale white sands of the secluded, manmade, beach the belonged to the Sol estate. A family made wealthy through inheritance and investment; the sole monarchs of the estate had built themselves a high castle, separate from the common rabble, to settle and grow. Unfortunately for them however, perhaps due to their greed, the pair’s first and only child had arrived with a certain abnormality. That grey sky also hung over that very child, the twelve-year-old Blaze the cat, as she stared down at her workbook. 

It was peculiar for her to take lessons by the beachside but, with some effort from her tutor to convince the feline’s parents, a bizarre and impromptu lesson had been quickly organised. Sat atop a thick picnic blanket, wearing a smile so caring that the young girl could practically feel it, was the in-house tutor for the estate, Vanilla. Contrary to the scowl Blaze wore as she carefully considered what to write next, the youngster didn’t dislike the rabbit. She had in fact, even at this young age, come to truly appreciate the role the tutor filled. The feline’s parents were always either distracted or busy, she couldn’t particularly tell or care which, but Vanilla, a mother herself, always found time to listen and care. Even in situations like this… even when the young girl claimed that she wanted nothing more than to be alone.

“How’s it going Blaze? Are you stuck?” Stubborn as ever, trying not to listen, the kitten bit her tongue, “You don’t need to write too much, just think of this as practice writing letters.”

Attempting to make a show of it, the feline (dressed in dungarees rather than her school uniform) silently continued her cursive work until she harshly dotted the end of a sentence, “I’m fine Vanilla,” As she looked up and caught the rabbit’s eyes, Blaze realised that, though she had technically answered the question, something further had been revealed. Of the people she knew, Vanilla was the only one who could peer into her heart and see the truth. The child’s eyes returned to the page, “I’m writing fine I just… you know…”

“I know you don’t believe in this and you think it’s foolish but that’s fine. A hint of whimsy is just what you need right now. Just think of it as a break from boring maths questions and everything else,” It was fortunate that the words everything else were cut off by a certain rummaging sound and a bread triangle entering the corner of her vision, “Gardon made these while I was talking with your parents, would you like to partake?”

Unable to resist her gentle charm any longer, regardless of how arduous today had been, Blaze set her book aside and claimed the wrapped meal with a muted, “Thank you.”

“It’s not the best day for a picnic, but it’s far from the worst,” Vanilla mused, claiming a sandwich of her own, “Not too windy and the forecast doesn’t call for rain, it’ll be smooth sailing for your letter.”

“Assuming it doesn’t just wash back onto the beach,” She glumly shrugged, undoing the wrapping and taking her first bite. Salmon, probably fresh from this morning. Once she’d swallowed, Blaze couldn’t help but look up to her tutor again, “Is it really cold? Are you okay?”

“Oh, no, dear. It’s not that cold, just a little chilly. I’ll be fine, honestly,” Blaze met her smile with an incredulous stare. The rabbit’s face somehow grew even softer, “Well, I suppose I wouldn’t mind just a little warming up,” Without even hesitating, the tutor reached across again; this time an empty hand was extended.

Blaze took the comparatively large hand in her own and, trying her hardest to be gentle, allowed a few small flames to build on the back of her knuckles. The heat immediately began to radiate, even though the flames were stagnant in terms of both position and size. Absentmindedly, ears drooping without their owner’s consent, she spoke, “It’s not hard to control them when I’m comfortable. It’s easier when it’s just you and me.”

“I know dear but, one day, it’ll be easy all the time. I’m certain of it,” Vanilla promised, drawing back her hand and pressing it to her cheeks, “That was lovely of you, thank you.”

A half mile behind them, in the estate’s main building, cindered remains were likely still being swept up. An attempt to set up a playdate with the children of another wealthy family hadn’t gone over well, but the issue wasn’t as mundane as that. To say Blaze didn’t get along with the other children was certainly an understatement, the feline’s very first encounter with those infants had ended in tears and a ball of fire. Today, when her parents refused to see reason, a similar explosive display had ignited the living room couch before spreading to the wallpaper. Of course, plans were in place for this sort of occurrence, the house’s sprinkler system had gone off, but it hadn’t cooled her parent’s scorn. She’d scarcely been able to dry herself and change before Vanilla had plucked her from the house.

“You’re welcome,” Was all she could manage to mumble.

“And whoever gets this letter will surely love you for your gift,” A seriousness lingered in the rabbit’s tone, despite the multiple layers of foolishness behind her claim, “Not despite it.”

Blaze scoffed before quickly finishing her sandwich, not yet returning to her work, “Who even thought this superstition up? I know I’ve read about it before but never like this…”

“This one in particular was thought up by the wives and children of widow sailors, as tragic as that is,” The bunny half cringed, “As I’ve told you, when a destined pair send messages out to sea, they’ll receive a sign of their connection. The ocean will take you letter and, just and only this once, deliver it to your soulmate as long as it meets the right conditions.”

“It has to be fully written by one person, it can’t include that person’s name, physical description, hints to find that person or to try and organise a meeting. It also has to be the first message a person sends to sea and no one else is allowed to read it except the intended individual,” Blaze recalled aloud, “Making it seem all the more pointless. All you can really tell them is what you’re like and what’s happening to you and, regardless, it’s not going to reach anyone. How are you even going to mark this if you’re not allowed to read it?”

“Come on Blaze, when I was your age, I wanted so badly for a handsome prince to sweep me off my feet. I must have rewritten my letter a hundred times,” Vanilla chastised, plainly ignoring the kitten’s question, “You can tell them what you think loving them will be like, your hopes and dreams. No one else will ever get to read it, only you and them,” Admittedly, that was true. Whatever she wrote down here would likely be lost to the sea, “And even if it doesn’t work, no one who finds it would ever know it came from you. It’s a thought exercise as much as it is a writing one, a way to air your frustrations and ambitions.”

The kitten claimed her journal again, trying her hardest to ignore the cloudy sky above. For whatever reason, her pen felt heavier than it had just a moment prior. She let her thoughts flow onto the page, their pace kept by a modest barrier of consideration, and tried her hardest not to overdo it. In truth, she’d never really considered what she wanted from a partner or what a partner might want from her. Did she even want a partner? Part of her didn’t, and she was certain that would come across in her writing, but she couldn’t deny that she saw the appeal. The idea of someone loving her for her flames was more than a little farfetched but someone who could see past them and still love her? Someone who actively, genuinely, wasn’t afraid of her? How could she say no to that?

Finally, Blaze clicked her pen closed. Vanilla perked up, “Is it done?”

“I think so…” The young feline hummed before drawing her eyes to the page and giving it a final read.

To whomever comes to possess this note, 

I hope we can meet and that, when we do, that the reason behind our link becomes clear rather than being the mere whim of coincidence. I have been instructed that, in this letter, I am to tell you about myself. While I was born into fortuitous circumstances, I have not lived the most fortunate of lives: though I am privileged in some ways, I am far more socially handicapped than the majority of my peers. I handle criticism poorly as I always try to give my all, regardless of the actual importance of any given assignment.

My peers don’t think too highly of me, many of them fear me, but the few truly close to me claim that I am mature for my age and intelligent. I’ve recently started to play the violin and have practiced ballet for as long as I can remember. As for other interests, though they’ll undoubtedly change by the time we meet, classical literature and music has always appealed to me. If we are destined to be together then I doubt you are a pilot, so this is probably unimportant, but I do have a fear of heights. I’m sorry if you wanted more details but I’m quite confused as to what is safe to include, in accordance with this dubious tradition.

I don’t think I’m the easiest person to love, both for reasons that should become clear to you and my inherent defensiveness. Though my investment in this idea of soulmates may be limited, the thought that there is someone out there who will love me for who I am is, undeniably, appealing. I may not be the best at displaying how I feel but, if we are to care for each, I will try my best to show you that I care. To be honest, I don’t know what to expect or to ask of you beyond that you keep an open mind if we do meet. Perhaps, just as this rumour being true would, you will surprise me.

Please stay safe and write soon, from your soulmate. 

“It’s a little… melancholy,” Blaze admitted, trying not to wince, “But I don’t want to rewrite it. It’s good enough.”

It was all written in her neatest handwriting, entirely cursive and eloquent. There wasn’t a single spelling error, not one that she could identify at least, and it looked professional enough? She’d written it in the manner she’d learned to write all of her letters and, perhaps, that was a little too formal for the occasion. Then again, it wasn’t as though it would actually reach anyone.

And, of course, she hadn’t mentioned her flames; not in explicit terms at least.

“Is it how you truly feel?” Vanilla questioned, “Is it how you want to introduce yourself to them.”

Blaze took another moment, considering it for just a moment more, before tearing the paper from her jotter and rolling it into a tight scroll, “Yes.”

The tutor turned to rummage through her bag again, this time drawing forth three things: a ribbon to bind the note, a small (cleaned and untinted) glass bottle and a whittled down cork from an old wine bottle. Blaze took the ribbon first, gently securing her note, and trying not to crumple it, before gingerly sliding it into the bottle’s narrow mouth. She let Vanilla secure the cork in place, not much trusting that it’d hold if she did it. Then though, curiously, the rabbit produced another object from her bag. A small violet tealight, brand new and untouched. 

“I think it might be nice to seal the bottle in your own, unique, way,” The rabbit explained, tilting the cantle upside down and holding it above the now sealed bottle, “With a little bit of fire, we can make a wax lid.”

The tealight exchanged hands, Vanilla held the bottle in place. Just as her prior heating, the tutor was likely the only one who would trust her to do this. Well, perhaps Gardon would too on a good day. Blaze snuck her forefinger around the tealight’s metal casing and birthed a burgeoning flame directly into the wax. The reaction was almost immediate, purple, lavender scented, wax began to drip down in gooey clumps and gather atop the cork. It took a while, and some shifting, to completely cover both the entryway. Most of the candle was diminished by the time it was done, the bubbling mass gradually cooling on the glass.

Vanilla drew it back, gently blowing on it, “Good job, Blaze. That’s perfect.”

In the silence that hung as the wax cooled, Blaze couldn’t help but dwell on her future a little. She knew she was young, far too young to be seriously considering these things, most children her age would still be focused on becoming a pop singer or filling some other extravagant niche. Her parents wanted her to focus on law, become a judge or an attorney, but, despite how important those callings were, they didn’t appeal to her. The only thing she knew that she wanted was to be away from here, to find somewhere that she could settle herself and actually be free to think, but that was so long away. She was bound to this place, bound to her parents, for the-

A gentle hand pushed up the feline’s chin and brought her to look the elder rabbit in the eye, “You might not meet whoever gets this letter for some time, but I promise you, Blaze, you will find them. You won’t be here forever; you feel so trapped forever. With their help or otherwise, I know you’ll do great things.”

The tutor rose, passing the bottle to its first owner. The kitten stumbled to her feet, taking it but quickly reaching out and holding her teacher’s hand. Barren white sand crunched underfoot, the clouds refused to part even now. It wasn’t long until she was at the cusp of the water, the lapping waves mere centimetres from the toe of their shoes. The older of the two drew up the hem of her skirt, Blaze awkwardly fumbled with her dungaree’s legs before retaking the rabbit’s hand. Vanilla took the first step into the foamy waters, but Blaze was quick to follow after. They waded until the sea reached the young feline’s knee, a glance from Vanilla informed her that was far enough.

Gently, Blaze set the bottle in the water. They stood for a moment, just to see that it would leave their sight. The tide was receding, they’d see the bottle bob above the waves every so often as it was gradually being carried towards the horizon. It was off to either meet with a watery grave or find some person somewhere else in the world. 

“Well, now we just have to wait and see,” The rabbit smiled, turning and gently retaking her hand, “I’m sure it’ll reach someone wonderful. I can’t wait to see you two together. Its been so long since I’ve seen young love, I’m sure your Prince Charming will be wonderful.”

“M-Miss Vanilla,” The little girl couldn’t help but whine, “I don’t want a Prince.”

“Oh? What is it you want then?” She asked, nearing the water’s end.

“I don’t know…” Blaze murmured, giving it just half a moment’s thought, “I just want a friend. I just want someone else who will be nice to me.”

“Can’t they be both?” Vanilla laughed, taking the first step onto dry land.

The young girl hadn’t considered that, but she wasn’t sure that she liked it. She was about to speak up in defiance when she felt something peculiar. A wave had passed behind her, lapping just above her heels, but it had hit differently somehow. It’d almost felt too hard. 

Turning to look over her shoulder, Blaze frowned as her eyes scanned the water. Among the waves, hitched in the sand, was a bottle. Had her note followed them back? Breaking off from Vanilla, the young girl crouched to get a closer look. Something about this bottle looked different. It wasn’t sealed with wax, it had a screw on lid. What’s more, this bottle was tinted green. Dumbfounded, without so much as thinking, she reached down and plucked the bottle from the water.

“Miss Vanilla?”

\---------

Butterflies flapped in her stomach as though they were giant eagles pursuing some sort of endlessly evasive prey. Blaze the cat, age twenty-two, had just spent the last twelve hours traveling with three overstuffed suitcases and a violin case. She’d departed a train forty minutes ago and had been walking ever since but, prior to that, she’d endured two different taxi rides and a full four hours failing to ignore a window seat view on a flight. To say that she was exhausted would be an understatement, she’d travelled further from her home before but never on her own and never like this, but to say she was unhappy would be entirely false. Blaze the cat was free, free from the Sol estate and free from all that came with it. She had finally claimed control over her life.

She’d never thought that the violin would be her escape; music simply been her hobby, but it had borne an unimaginable fruit. She’d managed to land herself third chair in an orchestra with a high probability of moving further up the ranks. The concertmaster was apparently reaching her elder years, looking for a protégé and to breathe new life into the group. A well-placed audition tape and a handful of politely worded emails had secured her the position. Sure, the job as it was now wasn’t enough to fully support her, but with her education the feline was certain she’d manage to pick up another form of income.

That orchestra job had led her here, Station Square; a city filled to bursting with opportunity which just so happened to also contain a cheap apartment-share near the city’s centre. An application for said lodgings had brought her to the door she was now standing outside of, an entrance to the supposed accommodation that persisted above an old pizzeria. She didn’t know where she’d anticipated her life to restart but the fact it was somewhere this plain honestly excited her. No more private beach; she had to build her own luxury.

First impressions were important, she’d been chastised about them her entire life. She’d tried to dress modestly, what few of her more expensive outfits she’d brought she intended to sell online. Her hair was fixed into a tall ponytail that almost crowned her head, a ponytail that she’d already remade five times today. A long brown trench coat, the brown top button of which she redid, was successfully obscuring a comfortable striped t-shirt and (surprisingly expensive yet unassuming) bootcut jeans. 

Once she was certain everything was in place and she had some form of greeting in mind, she dared to press the grimy electric buzzer. Almost immediately, a slightly overloud and static riddled voice answered her call, “Hello? Is that Blaze?”

“Yes, hello. I take it this is the residence of Silver the hedgehog?” She answered.

“Yeah, that’s me! It’s so nice to finally meet you, I hope…” He seemed to catch himself mid-sentence, though he went quiet, the buzzing persisted, “Oh, oops, I should probably open the door. Sorry! I’ll be right down!”

The buzzing finally faded and, once again, Blaze was left alone. That was the first time she’d ever heard his voice and, admittedly, she hadn’t been able to hear it very well. He sounded a lot more excitable than she’d truly anticipated. Their communication up until now had been limited to brief emails and, as a result, she didn’t actually know very much about the man she’d be living with for the foreseeable future. He had no criminal record, the flat itself both looked nice and was affordable, but beyond his job working in the museum and need for an additional housemate, that was the limit of her knowledge. Well, that and the picture attached to his profile.

Before Blaze could ponder on it for any longer, the white painted door before her swung open and a figure practically burst into view. She wasn’t sure who or what she’d expected out of this museum worker, but she certainly wasn’t this. A set of seven ludicrously long quills immediately consumed Blaze’s vision, followed by a set of excitable yellow eyes and a vaguely sun-kissed muzzle. He was rather peculiarly dressed too; he wore a jumper with a strangely low cut that allowed a seemingly endless flare of white chest fur to slip free. As if that wasn’t odd enough, he wore gloves that were lit by a bizarre cyan symbol on both their front and back.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Blaze!” His smile matched his eyes so very perfectly. 

“It’s nice to meet you too, Silver,” She half bowed, already feeling a little overwhelmed. The picture she’d seen had made him look demurer, his quills had been tied back and he’d been in his work uniform. She truly hadn’t considered that he’d be a head taller than her.

Almost immediately, he seemed to notice her luggage. Without even blinking, he gestured past her, “Oh, you must be exhausted. I can help with those!” Blaze’s surprise transmuted into total befuddlement at what happened next. With that wave of the hedgehog’s hand, those cyan symbols began to glow much brighter and Blaze heard shifting behind her. Before she could turn, all four of her bags had taken to the air and hovered above her head, “I’ll take them up and show you around, come on.” 

She stood in the doorway for a moment, entirely dumbfounded. She knew people with powers like hers existed, but they were rare enough that she had never met another. To think that the first person she’d ever stay with, the first person she’d encounter, was capable of such a feat though? This Silver was filled to burst with surprises. Catching herself though, butterfly-eagles still running rampant in her stomach, Blaze began to give chase.

The hallway leading up to the flat itself wasn’t very well lit, but it was homely enough. It led up to a landing where (judging by the small pile) shoes were supposed to be kicked off. Following it was a glass door that immediately opened into a small and very well stocked kitchen. It didn’t smell like anything was cooking at the moment but, judging by the drying rack, he had been hard at work.

“I cook quite a lot,” As he called back, Blaze couldn’t help but notice the hedgehog had gone from walking to floating amongst her luggage, “Are you much of a chef?”

“Not particularly,” Blaze admitted, nonchalantly. What few cooking lessons she’d received had gone especially poorly.

“Oh, well, if you’re ever in trouble or want to learn then let me know,” He offered, spinning back around to face forward, “I made a little something to celebrate your arrival, if you’re up for it.”

“Oh, thank you,” She said, now doubly surprised at his fast kindness.

Blaze took a sniff but, curiously, couldn’t smell whatever it was he’d mentioned. The hedgehog had clearly done a good job of cleaning up in preparation for her arrival, but then again… she had no idea whether the apartment had been messy in the first place. She passed an open door that seemed to lead into a small combination dining room and sitting room. Two patchwork couches sat near the room’s centre, a modest TV cresting just over them and a coffee table between them.

“Is this a violin case?” He called back, drawing her attention away from the room.

“Yes, it is,” She responded, noticing that he’d turned mid-flight and was now hovering the violin between them, “I’m joining city’s orchestra. I’ll need to practice fairly often, but if there’s ever a time you need quiet then feel free to say.”

“Oh, no, free to play it all you want honestly, the place downstairs just does take away and, apparently, the floor is pretty well soundproofed,” He said, that excitement still clinging to his voice as he landed outside a door, “That’s amazing, I’ve always wanted to meet a violinist. I can’t wait to hear you play, you must be wonderful!”

“I’m well practiced,” She coyly admitted, not used to barrages of kindness (let alone praise). She could feel herself locking up but tried to fight it, “Is this my room?”

“Oh, yeah. It is,” The hedgehog nodded, patting himself down before seeming to realise something. With a wave of his hand up the hallway, Blaze watched as a small set of keys raced their way from the kitchen area to float in front of her, “Almost forgot these.”

“Th-Thank you,” Blaze cursed her stutter, plucking them from the air. They found their way to the lock but, before she dared to push inside, she decided to feed her curiosity. He seemed so very open, it couldn’t hurt to pry, “How long have you been able to do that?”

“For as long as I can remember. It comes in pretty handy around the house, if you ever need anything moved then just say,” He grinned, clearly somewhat proud to have made a positive impression with his powers.

“I see,” She hummed, turning the key. She certainly wasn’t comfortable immediately revealing her power to him but, then again, her name was probably a bit of a give-away. Ideally, he wouldn’t question it, “It does seem rather useful.”

Blaze pushed the door open and found herself faced, for the first time today, with a sight she’d expected. The room wasn’t even half the size of her prior bedroom, its walls were both blank and painted off-white. Unlike the other rooms in the house, a grey carpet persisted underfoot. Blaze watched as her bags hovered through the door and landed inside in a small, neat, pile.

“I know it’s not especially stunning, but the landlord says you can decorate it if you want. I did my room up a couple months ago, before I moved in. It’s easier than you think, I’d be happy to help,” Blaze couldn’t tell whether it was due to her cold expression or some sudden realisation, but the hedgehog seemed to falter and turn away, “S-Sorry, I’ve never had a flatmate before, I guess I’m a little overexcited.” 

“You haven’t?” She questioned though, in hindsight, the underdeveloped room spoke volumes.

“I’ve moved from place to place quite a lot, living in tiny, two-room, apartments,” He explained.

“Well, I’m sure we’ll manage to figure this out between the two of us,” She wanted to give a reassuring smile but was fairly certain it would only scare him off. It seemed like neither of them were particularly good at this, “Thank you, Silver.”

“I’ll leave you to get comfortable. If you need anything I’ll just be, uh, in here,” He tapped the door opposite, assumedly his bedroom, “There’s an en suite in your room and, um, I think that’s everything? If you need me then just call.”

Blaze nodded and allowed herself the smallest of smiles, “Perhaps, once I’ve put everything away, we could look over the paperwork?” 

“Oh, sure, okay! Just say when,” He managed to grin again, ducking back into his room but not bothering to close the door. 

Blaze matched him, stepping inside and heaving a sigh of relief. She’d made it through her first interaction with her flatmate, she’d made it to her new home, she was so close to relaxation. There was a small, single, bed against the wall with a tiny wooden bedside cabinet next to it. A reasonably sized, yet still small in her experience, closet was set up against the far wall and she could see the door that likely led to the bathroom. This was liveable, she could do this, it was just the first step in something new. 

Unpacking her clothes and amenities took quite a lot longer than she’d anticipated, getting everything onto hangers and into the right place was relaxing albeit slow. There was nowhere especially practical to place her violin so it’d ended up propped against the far wall for the foreseeable future. The final of her bags still sat where Silver had placed it, entirely filled. Vanilla had packed it for her, saying its contents were mere food and cutlery, but she had made the feline promise not to open it until she was settled in her new home. Well, it was finally time.

Blaze hoisted the bag onto her freshly made bed, immediately creasing her work but not especially minding. She quickly brought the zip around, popping the top open, and was stunned by what she saw. The rabbit hadn’t lied, cutlery and non-perishables of all sorts filled the base of the bag, but a small note affixed to an object that Blaze hadn’t even thought about in almost ten years sat atop the other goods. A certain bottle that had washed up on the beach just after she had sent her own message to sea. 

Vanilla’s note was short and simple, “Enjoy your new life, don’t forget to write and remember, they’re out there somewhere,” Concluded with a small, winking, smiley face. 

Slipping onto the bed, Blaze found herself cradling both the note and the bottle. While that day on the beach stuck out in her mind like a sore thumb, perhaps due to the familial chaos that had come before it, the contents of this bottle did not. She hadn’t thought about that day often, especially not in the latter six of those twelve years, but whenever a book or a person mentioned the concept of soulmates she’d recall but never mention the occurrence. Admittedly, the young feline had long accepted that the note had in fact been written by Vanilla in an attempt to cheer her up following her childish strop. She didn’t believe in such nonsense then and she certainly didn’t now. Still, what was the harm in giving the coincidental note another read for nostalgia’s sake?

Blaze unscrewed the lid, giving the green aluminium top a quick once over before setting it on her bedside table. Wherever it had come from, the bottle had long lost any identifiable markings, but it was more bulbous than that containing any drink she’d ever had. She managed to get a finger in and, with some difficulty, pluck the note free. The sheet felt more like card than paper and was riddled with creases from its initial folding so many years ago. The handwriting was, admittedly, awful. She’d written her note as a child, but this letter looked to have been written with extreme haste. Regardless, due mostly to the large spaces between words, Blaze could make it all out.

It read:

“Hi there! If you’re reading this then I guess you know who I am? Just in case; I’m your soulmate! I can’t wait to meet you, I’m sure we’re going to get along great! I can’t write all that much about myself, otherwise the bottle will sink to the bottom of the sea, but I’m supposed to describe what I think our relationship might be like? But I’ve never been in one before, I’ve never had a soulmate before, so I’m not sure what to do or what to tell you.

People tell me that I’m a little blunt and that I wear my heart on my sleeve and that I’m pretty gullible. I’m not so sure, but I guess they’d know better than me? I really like sweet food! I can’t have a lot of it, we can’t really afford it, but that’s okay because it’s not good for me anyway. I also really like history books. The lost worlds of the past are so interesting to me and I’d love to discover more of them. I hope you like them too! I guess I can’t write about this too much, but I have a special skill that comes in useful quite a lot. It helps me tidy up and cook and get to all sorts of places, even ones I’m not really supposed to. 

I don’t know you yet, but I hope you’re nice. I don’t really know a lot about love, a lot of my friends think it’s gross but not me! I think it’s nice knowing that there’s someone out there for me and I’m just waiting to meet someone. If I can make a difference, even if it’s just for one person, then I’ll be happy, so I’ll try my hardest to make you happy! I’m learning to cook and bake so you don’t have to worry about that, I can already make spaghetti!

Please stay safe and I can’t wait to read what you send me!

From your soulmate”

Blaze’s nose wrinkled as she reached the end of the note. She’d decided years ago that Vanilla had written this note, perhaps with her left hand so as to forge childish writing, but something was bothering her. The feline’s eyes traced back up the note, specifically lingering on the mention of a special skill that helped the individual to cook and clean. A foolish thought entered her head, a quiet whisper that was still loud enough to break the otherwise peaceful silence. Reading over the page again, the bluntness and earnestness mentioned further loudened that quiet voice.

Catching herself in her own stupidity, Blaze quickly rerolled the paper and returned it to its bottle. Not quite knowing what to do with it now, feeling a bizarre heat on her face, she set it on her bedside cabinet and threw her gaze to her lap. Attempting to escape the heat, and realising she’d been too distracted to do so earlier, she undid her jacket and shrugged it from her shoulders.

The occurrence ten years ago was just one of many bizarre occurrences in the flame producing feline’s life, she’d seen her fair share of oddness and coincidence. There was absolutely no way that this bottle had come from the person she was now living with, she’d long decided it was a forgery made to keep her happy. It wasn’t like anyone was pulling at the strings of fate. Even if Vanilla hadn’t made it, for a bottle from someone else, someone who clearly believed in the superstition, to have drifted to shore while she was out there... that was possible, wasn’t it? Just as it was possible she’d seen some vague familiarities between the man she’d just met and that note’s writer.

She took her head in her hands, she was being ridiculous. It must have all been induced by her nerves, she was in a new city and living with a stranger, of course she was going to overthink things. There was no way she’d just stumbled into living with her soulmate; she didn’t even believe in soulmates. She’d never believed in soulmates and now, of all times, wasn’t the time to start. Blaze rose from the bed, collected the goods from her remaining suitcase and made a beeline for the door.

When she stepped into the hall though, her eyes were unintentionally drawn through the askew door of his bedroom. Though she could only see perhaps the smallest quarter, assuming that their rooms were the same, she’d locked eyes with a corkboard. A corkboard with many sticky notes tacked to it but also a small, curled, notebook page stuck to it rather than pierced by a tack. With each passing second Blaze felt her face grow hotter and heard her thoughts grow evermore foolish. It was as though fate was tempting her to burst into the room and look at it, or at the very least ask him about it. But that was the height of foolishness, she’d surely sound insane or rude at the very best. What self-respecting adult believed in such a fairy-tale, let alone would discuss it with a new flatmate on the first day they’d even met! She couldn’t ask about that leaflet now of all times! That would look ridiculous!

His mention of always wanting to meet a violinist metamorphosed in her mind from a show of kindness to a potential deeply held honesty. She didn’t recall much of the letter she’d written, but Blaze knew that she’d listed some of her hobbies. She’d only just started to play the stringed instrument, it’d surely been included.

Finding herself lost and dazed in the hallway, Blaze couldn’t help but call out, “Silver?”

She heard what sounded like the hedgehog falling over before he rushed into the doorway, quills wildly tossed, “Hey, is everything alright?”

Blaze swallowed, “I’ve just got some stuff to put in the kitchen and I think I’m ready to sign the papers, as long as you’re not busy?”

“Oh no, don’t worry; I was just doing a little reading, let’s do it,” He beamed, taking to the air again and leading the way to the kitchen.

She felt an immediate impulse to enter his room, he’d left the door open, but Blaze knew that was foolish. No, the much louder thought in Blaze’s brain was questioning what he was reading. The hedgehog worked in a museum; it was likely that he liked to read about history. Even if he was, it would have just been another coincidence… but things were lining up more and more. What was today? Was this all just some bizarre dream?

Blaze begrudgingly followed the white hedgehog, finding herself analysing him more than she probably should. His fur and quills were unkempt but it wasn’t as though he was dirty, just fluffy. She supposed his fur must just have grown out like that. The strange cyan energy he produced seemed to let him guide both himself and objects through the air… perhaps even other people. Blaze could certainly see how useful this power would be for cleaning… it probably let him make multiple dishes and clean at the same time too, pending how it worked.

Heat flashed across her face again and, reflexively, she balled her fists. Though she’d long learned to keep her powers under control, their connection to her emotions was a constant worry. Embarrassment, of all emotions, was one she hadn’t yet managed to control. While it lacked the ferocity and excitability of anger, it was still especially important to keep it subdued. If she let them, these thoughts would do much more than reveal her power. She might burn down her new home before she could spend a night-

“Blaze?” His voice tore her from her thoughts, he’d made it to the kitchen while she’d frozen up in the hall, “Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine I’m just,” She scrambled for the right words, marching towards him, “I’ve not settled yet, I’m still getting used to this arrangement. Just getting my bearings.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” He nodded, still smiling so very brightly, “Take all the time you need. You said online that you’d never lived away from home before, right?”

“I’d visit hotels with my family but, outside that, yes,” Blaze answered, stepping into the kitchen, “I know I’m a little old for that to be the case but…”

“No, no. Don’t worry, I get it and I know it’s pretty scary,” He smiled, leaning against the kitchen counter, “I’ve moved around a lot and your first night in a new place is always weird, let alone your first time anywhere new,” His smile faltered just a little, he began to scratch among his quills, “I’m sorry if I’m making it worse. I’ve been trying to make things more comfortable but I’m probably going a little overboard, right?”

“N-No, no, you’re doing fine,” Blaze quickly replied but she knew that her stutter betrayed the truth. Her failure to convey what she was actually feeling was simultaneously a blessing and a curse this evening. She tried to smile, “Thank you, Silver.”

“It’s no problem. You can put your stuff wherever you want, but I cleaned these two cupboards out for you. I keep the pots and pans in the big drawer and the cutlery in the one above that,” He pointed, his grin slightly returning, “Oh and there should be enough fridge space, I hope?”

Setting the bag down again, Blaze quickly began to unload Vanilla’s parting gifts. She kept the hedgehog in the corner of her eye, watching as he pulled a magnet from the fridge and slid free a small bundle of papers. Assumedly, that was the lease. He then, seeming to realise he didn’t have a pen, gestured up the hall again. The face he, likely unknowingly, pulled as he reached for the pen was far too serious, his soft features barely allowed for it. He seemed very innocent, harmless even; judging by his apologies, despite his attempts to appear confident, this was surely all very new to him too. 

“Is something wrong? Is there not enough space?” He asked, catching her staring.

“N-No, no. It’s fine, there’s more than enough,” She quickly looked away, shoving bushels of pasta into the cupboard as she tried her damnedest not to ignore the little voice screaming inside her. The voice that kept repeating the line in that note, that the writer was often described as wearing his heart on his sleeve.

Too many pieces of this non-existent puzzle were lining up, far too many. As she shifted to put away her cutlery, lost in thought, she very almost knocked into him. Even if it was all somehow true, even though that was entirely possible, then that didn’t actually mean anything. It wasn’t like just knowing some miraculous coincidence had happened meant they were bound to stay together forever or fall in love or whatever. She didn’t know him, he didn’t know her either! They’d hardly even talked! 

As the last pan clattered into place, Blaze dared to throw another glance his way. The hedgehog had set the paperwork down on the unit and entered the fridge. Blaze hadn’t ever looked for a relationship before and she certainly hadn’t intended to now. She hadn’t really looked at boys or girls or anyone for that matter, but something was bothering her. Perhaps it was just a result of his earnestness, perhaps it was because he looked so fluffy and soft, but there was something almost… charming about him. Was he attractive? Was he cute? Beauty was supposed to be in the eye of the beholder and this beholder had literally no idea what she found attractive.

The moment his bright yellow eyes hit hers, she understood that aspect of herself just a little better. He’d leaned out of the fridge, having not actually taken anything, “I noticed that we need a witness, do you know anyone else around here who you’d like to be it? I can witness it if that’s okay with you but, you know, don’t want to impose or anything. Landlord owns the place downstairs and said you can just leave it there.”

“I-I’m fine with that, yes,” She quickly rose to stand straight, taking the pen and papers from him, “Don’t worry, Silver. I’m just getting my bearings; you’ve been nothing but helpful.” 

His smile returned, the spark of joy in those eyes rocked Blaze to her core, “If you’re sure. I’ll leave you to it then.”

Blaze quickly threw her eyes toward the document. She’d read it before online, of course she had, but it was her only escape! She quickly filled in her share before blindly passing the sheet back to Silver for his witness confirmation signature, pretending to be distracted by the spice rack.

When she finally dared to look at him, Blaze found that Silver had casually let go of the objects he’d gathered and left them to hang in the air. Though she’d tried to fight it, Blaze couldn’t help but peer at his handwriting. He’d signed his name twice, both on the landlord’s copy and her own. It’d been at least ten years since the message in the bottle had been written, of course the writer’s handwriting would have changed over that time, but Blaze couldn’t help noticing the slightly scrawled nature of his penmanship. His handwriting wasn’t bad per say but it wasn’t in cursive, and it certainly wasn’t what you’d call neat. Though she longed to think of it in any other way, that was yet another strike in the soulmate column.

“Oh, um,” The hedgehog’s hand returned to his quills, “I don’t know if you’ve had dinner or anything, and you don’t need to eat it if you don’t want it, but I was so excited for you coming so,” He gestured into the fridge, “I made a cheesecake. Feel free to grab a slice whenever, it looks like it's properly set now.”

The hedgehog couldn’t just cook, he could bake. Alone that fact would mean nothing but, with all this compiling evidence, Blaze felt her head spin and more heat jumped to her face. She shifted by him, glancing into the fridge, and sure enough, there it sat. A biscuit base topped with a creamy yellow mass and decorated with what looked to be some kind of cherry or strawberry jell or jam. She took hold of the door to steady herself, feeling the heat gather and gather on her face until a single spark ignited near the tip of her nose and, with a small pop, burgeoned into a flame. Blaze ran her free hand down her face, snuffing it immediately, but the thoughts that prompted it still ran rampant in her mind. 

“Eh, Blaze? Are you okay?” She heard him shift and felt him looking over her shoulder, standing so very close, “You’ve gone all red.”

She had no idea how much of that he’s seen but, regardless, his innocence was astounding. His reaction to that pop and a palpable burst of heat from the fridge wasn’t to question what had happened but if she was okay. His concern for her was so very plain, his heart truly was fastened to his sleeve, he truly was very naïve. She had no idea what his life had been like up until this point, no idea who he really was just as he had no idea who she truly was. They were just a pair of very socially awkward individuals, albeit in very different ways, who happened to have collided due to the machinations of either fate or coincidence. She still couldn’t just up and tell him about these thoughts or the message she’d received but, regardless of them and whether this was fate or not, it was only right that she got to the bottom of this.

“I-I’ll have some if you will,” She blurted out, turning away from the fridge and towards him. Though embarrassment was surely twisting her face into a grimace, he still looked so kindly, “Maybe we should have a sit down and… get to know each other a little better?” The day’s travel had run her ragged, but nothing could compare to this past fifteen minutes, “I think we have a lot to talk about.”


	2. Winds of Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set four months after the first chapter. A bizarre occurrence sends Blaze's mind back to notes sent 10 years ago and the superstition surrounding them.

Civilisations experiencing snow were usually depicted in an especially picturesque manner, regardless of the medium they were depicted in. Cities under snow were usually shown to be at rest, the only sound being the gentle crunch underfoot. Pristine white flakes were to be cast down from equally perfect clouds, drifting like feathers before gathering to lie like icing on a cake. On evenings like tonight, the sun already set, that seasonal magic was supposed to be all the more amplified. The snowfall was to catch streetlights or streak across public decorations, making indoors appear all the more homely. Snow was to coat windowsills, having been carried by a gentle but chilly breeze that might cast the flakes to twirl in the air before landing. This imagined, picturesque, ideal had lasted for all of a single morning almost a full week ago.

The slushy reality that Blaze the cat, age twenty-two, had come to accept was presently soaking her calves while her hood held strong against the sky’s nigh perpetual sleet-spit. Rather than perfect white, the cold mass on the ground was tainted a veritable rainbow of grey to orange by a combination of dirt and the salt used to defrost the roads. That was necessary of course, but it was rather robbing her surroundings of their festive value. The shear abundance puddles, both on the pavement and by the roadside, were aiding in that tarnishing. Evidently the constant snowfall was taking its tole on Station Square’s storm drains, a fact that was exemplified as a taxi sped past and a slushy spray splashed her left side. The cold couldn’t irk the pyrokinetic of course, but the occurrence brought her fist to clench and teeth to grind.

Due to the flavour of her surroundings, today had been an especially exhausting Tuesday. In her right hand, thankfully away from the roadside, she carried her filled violin case. This evening had been the third to last practice prior to the big holiday performance; a concert that, until today’s decision, was set to be held at the heart of Twinkle Park. Unfortunately however, given that it was set to snow more over the coming week, the event had been downsized and moved indoors. What was meant to be a public charity event, openly accessible, was now looking to fill a small theatre with raffled tickets. Despite the price point of those tickets, the feline wasn’t hopeful about generating a donation even close to those made before her arrival.

This revelation had come near the end of an already tiring day, a ten-hour shift at the library where she’d managed to find stable work. While she usually loved her job, from helping children find the books they wanted to the mindless busywork of restocking shelves, the recent weather had again made things difficult. Their janitor had apparently slipped on his steps, landing himself in hospital with a broken leg. 

Being the youngest among the staff, most of whom were more than double her age, Blaze had been made to take up his role. While she had no issue with cleaning, mopping up ice-water that was constantly being trekked inside was mentally and physically exhausting. It was a matter made all the more infuriating by her unwillingness to use her power to simply evaporate the slush.

Speaking of which, the feeling of her left shoe’s sole releasing a watery squelch reminded the feline that, the moment she was home, she could undo this pesky weather’s effects. She could see her building, despite the city’s bustle, just a few blocks away; her small, shared, apartment above a forever struggling pizzeria. Despite the wealth of hints she’d accidently dropped regarding her pyrokinesis, she and her first friend in the city hadn’t ever discussed it. The hedgehog was remarkably oblivious, but perhaps that was for the best.

As she alighted main pavement, making her way away from the crowds and out of direct view, she pulled her left hand toward her chest and allowed it to ignite. Maintaining focus on it, the heat continued to rise while the flame maintained its small size. With that in one hand, she fumbled with her right to reach into her coat and draw free her keys. She stood outside for just a moment, bending down to evaporate much of the sogginess from her shoes, before pushing her way inside. 

The usual dark of the entry hallway was lit by her continued flame, it aided as she climbed the stairs. She quickly arrived at the landing; home of the shoe rack she’d insisted be put in place. Blaze managed one-handedly untie her winter boots and set them in their proper space before shedding her jacket, hanging it on one of the several coat hooks fixed to the outer side of the kitchen’s glass door. Curiously, there weren’t any lights on in their living space. Her flatmate was supposed to pay the electricity today, perhaps he’d forgotten and run out to top it up? Considering her luck today, that’d hardly be surprising. 

Either way, seizing the secret opportunity, Blaze again drew her flame close and ran it more thoroughly across her outfit. In the four months since she’d started living here, the feline had successful sold and replaced the majority of her overpriced wardrobe. Today’s outfit was primarily sourced from charity shops, a long sleaved maroon polo shirt and a set of black suit trousers. Deciding they were sufficiently dry; Blaze snuffed the flame and pushed her way inside. 

A flick of the kitchen light-switch proved that her flatmate hadn’t forgotten his task, “Silver, that’s me back. Are you in?” She called down the hall.

No response came. The psychic had work today, but he’d only been scheduled for a short shift at the museum. Even if he’d been kept in, the museum wasn’t open past five on weekdays and a glance to the clock showed that it was already half past seven. It wasn’t unlike him to spend time away, but usually he’d let her know if he had plans. There was a certain scent of baking in the air too, implying he had recently been present.

The feline slipped further inside, rounding the counter and finding the kettle half filled with water. She pressed its switch, allowing its rumble to fill the kitchen, and made her way to the fridge. The front of the white obelisk was littered with magnets, as it had been when she’d left, with a single curious addition. Pinned beneath a likeness of the Soleanna Hotel was a small sheet of paper, seemingly torn from a journal. 

She plucked it free and was immediately met with the hedgehog’s somewhat scratchy handwriting. 

“Hi Blaze, I’m up on the roof right now, just had something to do, head on up if you need me. There’s a cherry pie in the oven. Assuming I’ve timed it right, it should be ready by the time you’re back. If not, then hopefully I’ve come down and taken it out… but if I’ve done that then you probably wouldn’t be reading this, hahaha. Hope work and practice went okay! From Silver.” 

She set the note on the counter, placing her violin beside it, before retrieving the milk from the fridge. That grabbed, she ducked down and peered into the oven. Sure enough, a sizable pie tray was sat at the appliance’s heart. Hearing the kettle pop, she quickly grabbed a set of oven gloves and opened the oven door. Immediately the scent of cherry and freshly browned pastry filled her nose. Though she was no baker herself, the pie looked to be a success, the top was smoothly swollen and the crust was uncracked.

Setting it down to cool, she poured both herself and him a cup of tea. Hopefully whatever the hedgehog was doing wasn’t too drastic. It was nihilistic, but she couldn’t help assuming that a leak had sprung in their ceiling somewhere. The roof was chiefly accessible through a hatch in the hedgehog’s own room, perhaps the winter weather had revealed some kind of fault in it? He apparently hadn’t stayed in this building for long before she arrived, this was probably his first Winter in the flat. 

She wasn’t planning to head home for the holidays, regardless of her parent’s nagging, and he hadn’t mentioned any plans. Perhaps they’d end up spending it together? They both lived fairly busy work-lives but, whenever mutual moments of freedom arrived, they’d managed to go out and get to know each other better. He’d usually suggest that they take advantage of the moment, but she’d be the one to form the plan. One of their first had been aiding her in clothes shopping but more recently he’d joined her on walks and to the cinema. 

Though she’d been tense at first, especially with Silver being the first individual she’d truly met after moving out, the pyrokinetic had quicky come to enjoy the psychic’s company. Just as she’d assumed upon first meeting him, Silver very much wore his emotions openly; the hedgehog’s blunt and outspoken nature had been rather useful as a crutch to help her somewhat emerge from her shell. Honest smiles and wholehearted laughter had been thoroughly absent from much of her life, it was embarrassing to admit that those aspects had fused to form the spearhead and busted through her cold armour. 

A teaspoon was drawn from a drawer and the teabags were withdrawn from the water, quickly being flicked into the bin. Though she simply added some milk to her cup, she’d come to understand the white hedgehog’s sweet tooth. Before adding his milk, three spoonfuls of sugar were mixed into his brew. He’d add four or five if he was the one making it, but Blaze wasn’t about to feed that habit.

The feline darted back to the entryway and slipped back on her boots. With the cups lifted, filled just low enough to avoid any potential spillage, she began to move through the hall and toward his room. She’d find him, talk for a bit, then come back for the pie after asking if he wanted a slice. It was the polite thing to do, hopefully the desert would have sufficiently cooled by then. With time, she had become accustomed to the smaller scale of this building as compared to her family home. She could usually get his attention with little more than a shouted word, that or rouse his excitement with a few notes on her violin, but, evidently, the roof was just too far.

It was only as the feline reached their parallel bedrooms that she noticed his doorway was wide open. Outside the briefest occasions poking her head around his door, she’d never actually been in his bedroom and he, of course, had a similar amount of experience in her room. This view however, through his open door, was one she knew well and could help but notice a small change in. The framed space consisted of two parts; a chest of drawers, currently closed, and a corkboard. During her first day in this apartment, while they’d sat and eaten cheesecake, she’d summed up the courage to ask about that corkboard in the hopes of learning about a specific item.

It was a certain curled and gnarled notebook page, the item she could recall best out of all the notes on his board, which had disappeared, much like its owner. As a result, a certain imagined puzzle she’d set to the back of her mind threw itself to the forefront of her thoughts. During their talks, he’d only revealed that he used the board to keep his scatterbrain in check, setting himself daily and weekly reminders, not mentioning that note in any detail. A note that she was fairly certain she herself had written around ten years ago. Its apparent absence sent her tail to flit and a heat to her cheeks.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, stepped inside, and sharply turned away from that wall. The remaining room interior was about as she recalled, neat but not as neat as her room. His bed wasn’t properly made, and his work clothes were strewn about the place, but that didn’t hold her attention. Instead, her eyes were drawn to a large staircase that had been pulled down from a panel in the ceiling. Even though she couldn’t feel the cold, the sharp wind the exit let in was clear to her.

Despite making her aware of the roof access through his room, even offering to show her it during the evening of her first arrival, he’d never actually mentioned using it. For him to use it now of all times and procure that note, with the weather as it was no less, was only serving to amplify her curiosity. Without thinking, she threw a glance backwards and confirmed it; the note she’d become fixated on was nowhere on the board.

Why had he taken it down?

Her grip tightened on the mugs. Why had she looked back? Couldn’t she stop snooping and just do what she intended? Even as she thought that, her eyes landed on his bedside cabinet. On top of it sat a reading lamp and a book about the history of Spagonia. Between his job, his powers and his cooking, it was no wonder she’d become so flustered upon first identifying him, he really did match what was written in her own note. But then, surely many people did. Besides, that was ten years ago, whoever wrote that letter might have changed; she’d expect them to in fact. Just because he was looking at what she thought was the letter she’d sent, didn’t mean it was; let alone that they were somehow supernaturally connected.

Right?

The heat on Blaze’s face had only been growing as she sank deeper and deeper into thought, resulting in the inevitable. Given that she’d been clenching the handles of the mugs, it was on her palms that the spark lighted. Almost immediately, both of the prokinetic’s hands were on fire. Wincing, she reclosed her eyes and blew on her hands, focusing on the effort in an attempt to bring herself back to neutral. 

At least the flames might have rewarmed their tea, she’d let herself linger here for far too long. Getting up and into the cold would hopefully aid in abating her heat, not to mention the distraction brought on by conversation with Silver. 

It was still spitting sleet, a fact she noticed around halfway up the stairs. Jostling their mugs into her right hand, she raised her left to act as a cover. She had been rather foolish not to have considered the weather and grabbed her jacket, but it likely meant that the hedgehog was freezing up there. He didn’t have the grace of her powers after all. She pushed her way to the top, feeling the wind glance across her fur and tug at her ponytail. Immediately, her breath was visible in the air. 

Rather than steeped, the rooftop was almost perfectly flat. During the day their building hid in the shade of a nearby office building but, given that sunset had passed and the sky was cloudy, the roof was as poorly lit as anywhere else. The space itself was remarkably big, having more floorspace than their actual flat. Regardless, as she climbed up to fully stand on the roof, she scanned her surroundings for the hedgehog.

She’d expected him to be working up here, if not fixing a leak then shovelling snow, but the reality was much stranger. Silver was sat at the far edge of the building, feet surely dangling off the edge, looking out into the street. Blaze felt her stomach lurch at the mere sight of him out there, so close to falling. A thin psychic veil hung over his head, thickly covered with snow. If it weren’t for his precarious position, she might have better been able to take in the roof itself; piled deep with more typical snow than slush, likely a result of the lack of salt. 

“Silver, what are you doing?!” She called out, taking a single step in his direction.

As he turned, clearly surprised by her voice, she managed to get a slightly better look at him. His quills were in their usual formation, but he’d clearly failed to fully keep the snow from his form, so they were beginning to droop. At least he was wearing a hoodie, a dark green pullover with a pair of dangling red chords, and what looked to be a set of thick brown trousers.

“Hey Blaze!” As he called out to her, she couldn’t help noticing that he’d very quickly folded and shoved a certain note into his hoodie pocket, “I’m just taking in the sights, the view’s great from up here! Come take a look!”

The feline managed another step closer, but imagined the fall behind him as she did. Immediately, she froze in place, “Can you just come away from the edge instead?”

“Oh, don’t worry, it’s perfectly safe. Besides I’d catch either of us before we fell, you don’t need to worry!” He beamed, entirely oblivious.

“No, I’m sure you could, I’m just, um,” She hadn’t even broached the subject of the note, yet embarrassment was already flaring, “C-Can you just come over here instead?” 

She winced at sound of her voice, she’d practically snapped at him, but at least it got him up and away from the ledge. He paced over, bringing his psychic barrier with him and quickly expanding it to shield them both from the snow. Despite her harshness, the psychic was still grinning at her.

She fumbled slightly, reaching out with a mug, “This is for you, I took the pie out the oven to cool. Thank you by the way.”

“It’s no problem, I hope you like it. It’s a new recipe so hopefully I did it right,” He took a quick sip but, judging by his expression, her flaming outburst had rather overheated the porcelain. He fought his confused wince as he spoke, “Thank you for the tea, how was today?”

“It was,” She tried to put it delicately, “Eventful. A lot of surprises, none of them good. You might struggle to make it to the concert now.”

“Oh?” Concern overcame the remnants of pain in his gaze, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t want to bore you or…” Without a moment of hesitation, he’d reached across and put a hand on her shoulder. In the months she’d come to know Silver, the psychic’s contrarily physical nature had quickly been revealed.

While it’d made her skittish at first, the offered contact now only served to bring her comfort, “It’s okay Blaze, I asked. If you want to talk then we can talk, don’t worry,” Despite the kindness of his words, a certain seriousness had overtaken his face.

A sigh slipped from her lips, “I spent the whole day mopping in the library, the place was practically waterlogged because of the snow. Practice was okay but, towards the end, they decided we’ll have to change the concert venue due to the weather. There’s going to be a lot less space so the tickets are being raffled off,” She relayed, “I’m just exhausted to be honest, mopping then playing the violin for hours really tired out my arms and I’ve been soaked all day.”

“I’m sorry, that sounds exhausting,” She felt the hedgehog tighten his grip on her shoulder, “Did you manage to get dinner? I made a curry when I got in, there’s a portion in the fridge if you want-

“No no, thank you, Silver,” She cut the kind hedgehog off before he could become too set on the idea, “I managed to microwave yesterday’s leftovers at work, between that and the pie, I should be fine,” He didn’t look especially convinced, but she’d learned to stop him before he got carried away, “But what about you, how was your day?” She asked, taking a sip of her tea.

“Oh, yeah, it was fine. I only had a half day at the museum, I gave a couple of tours and helped around the place. I’m on the nightshift tomorrow though, filling in for one of the guards,” That job seemed to fall on Silver almost as often as his assigned role, perhaps as a result of his powers, “I got back around three, did some cooking, and headed on up here.”

It was surely approaching quarter to eight by now, meaning that he’d been home for five full hours. Making a curry did take a lot of time, especially in conjunction with the pie, but Silver had implied that he’d been up here for a couple of hours at least. That thought sparked further ideas in Blaze’s mind, considerations about just what he’d been doing up here with that note. Had he managed to draw some parallel between her and the writer? And why today of all days, when the sleet was coming down and it was freezing cold? There was no way he’d spent all that time traffic watching. Opportunity had struck, this was probably her one and only chance to take advantage.

“So, you’ve been up here for a while then,” She pretended to think aloud, hardening her expression, “What are you actually doing?”

“O-Oh,” The hedgehog’s hand slipped from her shoulder and into his hoodie pocket, “Just kind of observing a Winter tradition I have.”

“Oh? What kind of tradition?” She enquired, almost certain that she already knew; it was bound to have something to do with that letter.

“It’s really stupid, you’ll probably laugh at me for it. A lot of folks have before,” He obfuscated, scratching his chest fur.

She looked him dead on, fully maintaining a serious face, prompting him to continue without having to speak.

“Well, see, there’s this superstition I’ve kind of believed in since I was a kid. It’s like how people make wishes at the start of a new year or when they see a shooting star,” He trailed off, glancing to the horizon, “Well, I do those too…”

“Stay on target, Silver,” She prodded before drinking from her mug. 

“R-Right, well, this superstition is about soulmates; the person you’re supposed to spend your life with? You’re meant to send a letter in a bottle out to sea and, if your soulmate writes one too, you’ll get one back,” As Silver explained, Blaze felt her heartrate skyrocket, “I sent a message out back when I was twelve, after my friend Amy told me about it. Once every year I read the note I got back and consider if I’ve met the person who wrote it.” 

“O-Oh?” She’d had an expectation upon the mention of superstitions, but that hadn’t kept her from spluttering, “So you did get a letter back?” 

“Yeah, and it seems like whoever wrote this letter was being honest in what they wrote,” Silver elaborated, only further increasing her temperature. Ten years later, Blaze couldn’t even hazard a guess at what she’d written, “I’m not supposed to tell anyone what they wrote, it’s like how you’re not supposed to tell people what you wished on a star, but they seemed really nice and I can’t wait to see how they’ve changed.”

“You really believe in it, don’t you?” Blaze hummed, taking another sip of tea.

“See, I told you it was silly,” He pretended to smile into his drink, but the expression was easy to read.

“No, no. It’s just,” She fumbled for the right words, “Ten years is a long time to believe in a superstition like that. How are you certain it wasn’t just a random bottle that’d washed up on the shore?”

“I don’t think I would if it wasn’t for how it happened,” He began to elaborate, “I’d just put my bottle in the water. I was scared that using my powers would break some kind of rule, so I’d walked out into the ocean and put it out there by hand. On my way back though, just as I was about to reach the sand, another bottle washed up on the shore. It slid right between my legs.”

Blaze’s heart when from beating wildly to skipping beat after beat. On one hand, that was almost exactly the same as her story. On the other though, his story implied the exchange of their letters was literally impossible. She had encountered a reply bottle almost immediately too, that letter surely had to travel miles to reach the Sol Estate’s private beach. Both of their stories were so miraculous, it was so bizarre. It did though give Blaze an idea about how to find out more.

“You said it was a message in a bottle, right? What happened to the bottle?” Blaze struggled to delicately question.

“Oh, well, um,” The hedgehog took a big swig of his tea, looking even more sheepish, “I wish I’d kept it, but I was a kid and I couldn’t get the bottle open. I used my powers to break it against a rock,” He admitted, far too honestly, “I think there was something weird covering the top of it that I just couldn’t get off, no matter how hard I tried,” His gaze flickered above them, to the mounting pile of snow gathered on his psychic shield, “The reason I’m up here today is because it’s been exactly ten years since I sent out my letter, realising that just made me a little nostalgic I guess.”

And just like that, the odds of him receiving her bottle had redoubled. Even though she didn’t remember much of what she wrote on her note, the feline could remember the bulk of that day well. She had written the note per Vanilla’s instructions, sealed the bottle with a cork and then melted wax over its top. How many people would have gone that far? Surely a few but certainly not the majority. 

She glanced down at their feet and found that the snow surrounding her had significantly thinned. This was all so conflicting and complicated, his note and story seemed to match the one she sent out, but the timeframe just didn’t line up. She knew that the letter she’d received matched him perfectly at the very least. He wouldn’t want to break superstition and discuss the letter’s contents, but wouldn’t he have implied in some way that the letter he’d acquired matched her? The psychokinetic was taking this all very seriously.

The feline took a sip from her cup only to find the tea had gone rather cold, a change likely spurred by their surroundings. If her cup was cold then his surely bordered on being frozen, but rather than complain he was still drinking. This couldn’t go on forever, she had to get to the bottom of this. But if he wasn’t willing to explain the letter’s contents, and she certainly wasn’t willing to steal it, then what could she do? 

“Blaze?” By the time she’d turned back to him, Silver’s eyes were already upon her, “Have you ever been in love?”

It took all the focus she had not to catch alight, she very almost bit straight through her tongue. She knew the hedgehog could be blunt, but never quite this blunt. How could he stand to ask that, let alone after all they’d discussed? Anyone else would have shot him down there and then, decided this was all some elaborate pick-up scheme, but Blaze knew both him and the reality far better than that. He was earnestly and honestly asking; the psychic was genuinely curious!

They hadn’t remotely breached the subject of their love lives before this, but Blaze doubted Silver could hide if he was in a relationship. Then again, despite having that note pinned to his noticeboard and in view of the doorway, he hadn’t discussed either sending out a letter or the superstition surrounding soulmates until today. Matching that though, other people weren’t supposed to read the letter you received. Still, she would be surprised if romance was the one thing he kept close to his chest.

Tail flitting and head spinning, as if being on the rooftop wasn’t bad enough, Blaze managed to stutter, “No, I’ve never even been on a proper date. My parents would try to set things up, but they would always… no.”

“What? Really?” Silver’s look of shock briefly roused her from panic, “But you’re so kind and pretty, Blaze! I’m surprised that tons of people haven’t asked you out.”

“You have a very,” She was certain more of the snow had melted around her feet, “Unique perspective on me, Silver. Th-Thank you, but I suppose going on many dates also doesn’t equate to being in love.”

She didn’t have the guts to ask about his history. Silver was, undeniably, charming, she’d noticed as much even upon first meeting him. There was something about his unique, almost ethereal, appearance, coupled with his genuine and excitable nature which she could easily see being a draw. If she could recognise that at first sight, then others surely must have too. It wasn’t just her, was it?

She felt his hand return to her shoulder and almost jumped out of her fur, “That’s right, it doesn’t. If there’s someone you’re pining for then just say, I’ll do my best to help you!” 

He was beaming, wildly, her heart was still pounding. She rolled her eyes, turning away, “I’m not at the moment, but I’ll be sure to let you know.”

Was she actually attracted to him? Ignoring all of the flustered feelings about the notes and soulmates, was she? It was a question she hadn’t dared to ask herself; he was the best friend she’d made ever since she’d moved, a misstep in that direction would spell disaster.

But, if she had to answer, Silver was almost certainly the closest she’d come to having a traditional crush. Even just thinking that was enough to spike her temperature, but no one else really came to mind. It was probably a step too far to say she had an actual crush on him, but she knew she liked what she’d seen from him. 

He was kind and honest, he fit with her like a jigsaw puzzle. They didn’t so much complete each other as make up for the other’s shortcomings; her seriousness matched his obliviousness, her cautiousness accounted for his excitability. It was perhaps a strange thing to be attracted to but the way he used his power so freely often ensnared her attention and gave her hope for her own ability.

What was she supposed to do now; what were they supposed to do now? She looked back to him. While her breath still hung in the air as wispy clouds, his breath hadn’t been visible at any point since her arrival. The hedgehog had to be freezing cold up here, no matter how bundled he was beneath that hoodie, but she’d also interrupted him in the midst of a yearly tradition.

Remembering her potential part in that tradition sparked a handful of ideas, each more embarrassing and difficult to achieve than the last. She bit her lip, feeling herself boil. How much could she stand to tell him; how much could she stand to do? What could she gain and what might she lose? 

“Aren’t you cold? You’ve been out here for hours,” She asked, building herself up to acting.

“Oh, um, yeah, a little,” He conceded, clearly realising he was being slightly chastised, “I thought you would be too, but you feel so warm; you’re not even wearing a jumper,” The hedgehog seemed to realise, sending Blaze into a small panic and her temperature even higher, “I guess your name is Blaze for a reason.”

“Y-Yeah,” If that was really the best reason he could come up with after all this time then the hedgehog was even more oblivious than she thought. If he did hold the note she’d written, it was no wonder that he hadn’t equated it to her, “I’ve always been a naturally warm person I suppose, I don’t really feel the cold.”

“Wow, you’re so lucky,” The gears in his head seemed to turn, “No wonder I’m always the one turning the heating on…”

As he trailed off, throwing a glance to the roof’s edge in response to a beeping car, Blaze saw her opportunity.

“If you want to stay up here a little longer, I could go get us some of your pie. I kind of want to see the view you were talking about at the ledge but, um,” She swallowed, about admit something to him that she’d only ever told Vanilla, “I’m afraid of heights…”

His gaze immediately snapped back to her, “I-I’d love that,” For a moment she swore she’d seen a stunned expression on his face, but his expression reformed into a strange smiling combination of excitement and seriousness, “And you don’t need to worry about heights with me around, I promise. I’ll catch you before you could even fall. I’ll help you beat this fear, I’m the perfect person to help you.”

“I don’t doubt it,” She managed to cut in before he could suggest something more drastic, taking his cup from him. Though she’d not seen him up here before, she’d seen the hedgehog fly into the treetops and felt her stomach drop on a number of occasions, “I’ll just be back in a moment.”

As his hand fell from her shoulder, she alighted the rooftop and made her way down the stairs. Almost immediately, she felt the heat that had been overwhelming her body dull down to a simmer. She took a deep breath, her plan still formulating as her head stopped spinning. It was simple, it was easy; she’d told him that she’d go and cut them some pie before heading back up, that was all.

Instead of going to do that, she moved across the hall and unlocked her own bedroom door. Stuffed away in her side table, obscured beneath an extra towel, lay an old glass bottle. Without so much as blinking, she unscrewed the lid and frantically shook free the note within. She hesitated for just a moment, debating taking the bottle too, before opting to return it to the drawer. Note now in hand, she rushed her way down the hall and back into the kitchen.

Before she even looked at the pie, she went straight to the counter and held the coiled cardboard up to Silver’s recent note. With every step of this plan, the feline could feel the heat on her face burning hotter and hotter. Her eyes franticly bounced back and forth, looking to match exact words and letters. 

If her bottled-note truly had been written by Silver, which she could still scarcely believe was even a possibility, then he’d have written it over a decade ago. Both notes opened with the word hi, but drawing a conclusion based on that was the height of foolishness. This supernatural nonsense, she’d told herself she’d never believe, now had her performing detective work, trying to match words and lettering from a tempest tossed note she’d received as a child to a quickly written message. 

Both sets of handwritings were scrawly in a similar manner, a few letters seemed to match up well but certainly not perfectly. Having inspected for a good minute or so, she was reasonably convinced that the hedgehog’s modern penmanship could have evolved from that in the note she’d received. Having to compare the notes did though mean reading the one she’d received all those years ago, parallel after parallel regarding the likes of special skill and cooking were forced to the front of her mind, not to mention Silver’s personality. Quite quickly, she rolled the note back up and planted it deep in her pocket.

Their mugs were set in the sink and quickly filled with hot water, left to steep as she hurried. A pair of bowls were drawn from an upper cupboard and a knife was retrieved from the drawer beneath it. As she pressed the blade into the crust, steam rose from the pie’s centre and the sweet scent became all the more palpable. Even without having tasted it, Blaze could tell that the hedgehog had outdone himself; the pastry had crumbled so cleanly and the crimson interior was so vibrant. Unfortunately, her mind again racing, the dish couldn’t hold her attention.

As Blaze plated two reasonably sized portions, adding a spoon to each bowl, she caught herself hesitating. In hindsight, attempting to face her greatest tangible fear while simultaneously plying Silver about a superstition she’d told herself she didn’t believe in was a bit much for a single evening. She tried to play through their conversation in her head, dragging herself from the worksurface with a bowl in each hand. He had encountered his bottle at a similar time to her, during winter ten years ago, but it’d been just after he set his letter free, which was also the same as her experience. It was as she’d thought before and it refused to leave her mind; without some kind of divine intervention, their exchange was literally impossible.

She again hesitated outside his door, eyes colliding with his corkboard and its empty portion. While the actual exchange of their messages was a barrier to her theory, it was last hurdle on what had been a smooth drive down an exceptionally bumpy road. For the bottles carrying their letters to simply not crack in the ocean and sink to the depths, or for them to even encounter messages in bottles, these were less impossible things, yet they were still highly improbable. Who were they of all people to disbelieve in this potential connection, one born able to manifest flames and the other with psychic powers? Just as this superstition was a supposed quirk of nature, they themselves bordered on the supernatural.

Somewhat stabilised by those thoughts, the feline took to the stairs with gusto; immediately identifying the light of the cyan swirl above her as Silver’s power. Curiously though, there was no sign of the actual hedgehog. With every step the tension seemed to mount, approaching its prior place, but that all scattered as she reached the roof.

Blaze alighted the stairs only to find herself face to face with a large, relatively simple, snowman. Its eyes were formed from little stones, seemingly broken pieces of pavement, and its single-line smile was formed of the same material. Looking past the figure and around the roof, she found various other snow-people of similar make and form, a single orb for the base and one for the head, but of varying heights. All but one, a figure near the edge the hedgehog had been sitting, looked to have completed expressions. The rooftop itself had been cleared by the creation of these figures, it was undoubtedly an act performed using the psychic’s power.

“Silver?” She called out, scanning her surroundings. 

Just before she could begin to worry, a new flash of cyan light floated upward from the roof’s edge and arrived to land next to her. Sure enough, in an instant, the bioluminescence faded from his body and pooled into the symbols on his hands. Already, he looked far too enthusiastic. With a wave of his hand seven rocks were sent spiralling into the air to plunge one by one into the head of the final snowman, forming its face and thus completing it. 

“I’ve been meaning to do this all day, I just got too distracted by my note,” He smiled, taking his bowl as she presented it, “Thank you. Do you want to eat first or should we try the ledge?” 

Despite her prior trepidation, Blaze didn’t so much as blink, “Dessert with a view sounds like a good idea. That and I’ll have a way of distracting myself if it does become too much.”

“Alright,” Without so much as blinking, he slipped his hand into hers, “Let’s do it then!”

She almost stumbled as he led the way, in an instant she’d gone from confidently suggesting a plan of action to being pulled along for the ride. The pyrokinetic tried to regain her footing, striding forward alongside him. They passed snowman after snowman, with every step closer to the edge the feline became more and more aware of the streets beneath them. The sounds of cars passing in the street, people talking to each other and even the splash of footsteps into slush became all the more apparent. Before they could reach the very edge though, he stopped and seemed to have realised something. 

He let go of her hand, pacing around her before pointing past her head and into the middle distance, “Try not to look down, just look that way. That’s where the best view is.”

Currently, Silver was just pointing towards the corner of the large office building two blocks along the road. Its tall frame blocked any potential view. 

“Okay,” she sceptically responded as the hedgehog resumed his pacing, quickly taking his place on the edge of the roof. 

More cautious now, she shuffled forward. At first the steps were small but, as she neared the very edge, she quickly came to understand why he’d repositioned himself. The street they lived on wasn’t perfectly straight, it tended slightly diagonally into the city; so, as she crossed towards the rooftop ledge, all of the street was revealed. For a moment she stood there, any fear of heights totally forgotten.

They were above the streetlights by a good metre or so, meaning that golden light was basking the slightly snowy streets and not obscuring the view. Though it was still busy, the traffic beneath them had been slowed by a combination of congestion and the cross-junction just a few blocks away. She could see people for miles, the nightlife was starting but hadn’t yet reached the drunken shouting she’d occasionally hear from below. The lights in every house and on every car were shining, those in the far distance almost appearing like stars in the night sky.

All that was marvellous, a beautiful culmination of city life, but it was the snow that truly completed the scene. From ground level it’d seemed murky and frankly disgusting, the chill of water and its propensity to splash had been highly irritating at best. From up here though, the snow accentuated the glimmer of every light and granted contrast to both the dark of night and the paved landscape below. Even the glisten of the drenched roads shone far prettier than she’d experienced on the street.

It was only as she reached the very ledge that the mystique of the view faded away, she went to turn to him and caught sight of the dramatic distance between them and the ground. Her immediate response was to step back, but instead she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When her eyes reopened, his hand was reaching up to her. She gingerly took hold and slowly lowered herself, soon coming to sit beside him. As intended, she turned her eyes to her food as a distraction but, before she could raise a spoon, Blaze had one question. 

She threw her eyes towards him, “And just when were you planning to show me this?”

“The day you arrived,” He sheepishly reminded her, swallowing a chunk of pie, “But I didn’t know about your fear of heights and stuff. You refusing to come up here makes a lot more sense now… do you like the view?” 

“I would more if it didn’t mean being so close to the edge,” It was only as she said that, turning from him and reaching for her spoon, that Blaze realised they were still holding hands, “But it is rather enticing,” She managed to hum, using her other hand to scrape up a spoonful.

Baking and preparing deserts seemed to be one Silver’s passions but, perhaps due to the view or the general circumstances, this cherry pie truly was exceptional. The crust was perfectly buttery, acting to wonderfully compliment the sugary sweet nature of the cherry filling. She had no idea how he’d made it all, assumedly some aspects were store bought, but it all meshed so well. It wasn’t too sweet either, a fact that showed the intent behind the dish. It had always been made to share, specifically with her in mind.

Just as she had tailored her next moves to specifically ply and better understand him. Still eating, she threw him a glance from the corner of her eye. Now that they were sitting and the boon to height of her boots was lost, their difference in height was apparent. Silver’s habitual floating always made him seem taller, but it equally allowed her to ignore what difference there was between them. He was at least a head taller than her, perhaps just a little more, but sitting had almost halved that difference. 

“Silver?” He turned to her with a psychic globule of pie hovering near his muzzle, rather than a spoonful raised to his mouth, “About that superstition you mentioned, sending a message in a bottle to your soulmate…”

He quickly swallowed, “Oh, yeah! I was going to say, Blaze; if you wanted then we could go do it sometime. I know it’s late in the year, but I love taking trips to the beach! The sunset on the water always looks so nice.”

“Well, we can go to the beach at some point, but, um,” She reached into her pocket, producing the still curled letter. Her mouth felt dry, “When I was twelve, I partook in the superstition too.”

“What, really?! That’s the letter from your soulmate?” As Blaze nodded, Silver produced his own note, it’d clearly been folded hundreds of times over the years, “We must have done it around the same time, that’s so cool! Did you like the response you got?”

“Well,” Blaze bought herself just a moment to think of a response, “I’m not sure what I was expecting, but I certainly did at the time. They seemed really kind and honest; I can’t help wonder if they’ve changed much since they wrote it, it was a long time ago...”

“I’m sure they will have a little, just like mine,” He said, much too seriously, “But if they’re supposed to be your soulmate, it’ll only be for the better, right?”

“I suppose,” He’d clearly thought about this more than she had, “But didn’t you say you check your letter yearly, to see if you’ve met the right person yet?”

“Ah, w-well, um,” Seeming to catch himself, he quickly tucked his note away, “I can’t really describe it, because that’d be like letting you read it, but there are little things about them that I should be able to pick up on, things that probably won’t change. Isn’t that the case for yours?”

“There are, but they’re a little vague,” Blaze conceded, tucking away her own note. Her letter’s mention of a certain skill being held by her soulmate was all she could think of. What would she have put in her letter that he could aid in identifying her?

Silence, save for the sounds of life below and their eating, came to consume the space. They were still holding hands; his fingers were gently slipped between her uncurled ones, surely he could feel her heat? Was he just toying with her? Had he realised something she’d long assumed? Was he too embarrassed to speak up about it, or was he just as scared of worrying her with a revelation as she was of worrying him?

It wasn’t uncommon for Silver to eat using his power, but the choice to do it rather than release her hand and draw his spoon was playing on her mindset. Was it possible that they were both fools; led along by a twist of fate combined with a silly superstition? Could it be that they were both imagining things? What if this was all nonsense? What if she was just overthinking the significance her relationship to the first person she’d ever seen in a more than platonic light? How often did people meet their supposed soulmates in such a casual manner?

She’d run through all these thoughts multiple times, from trying to embrace the supposed mysticism behind their meeting to ignoring it and judging him for who he was. What was the right thing to do? How was she supposed to fall in love, how was she supposed to find the one? Outside these scant moments of supernatural consideration, she hadn’t even been looking for love; she’d been too focused on work and living. Turning her eye to the past didn’t much help either, her parents hadn’t been especially forthcoming about their courtship. Only one person had discussed love with Blaze in the past, both earnestly and in terms of superstition.

Vanilla’s words from all those years ago rang in her head, a reminder of something she could invest in above this supposed occurrence. Shared bottles sent overseas weren’t indicative of a good future relationship. Only the purest bearing of who they were was; the only sign she could truly trust was his reaction to her true self.

Blaze swallowed, hoping he’d take the sweat on her forehead as melted snow, “I’ve been thinking.”

She heard him hum in acknowledgement, his mouth likely filled with pie.

“There’s something else I’ve been meaning to tell you about, ever since I first started living here,” She wiped her hand on her trousers and felt her temperature spike even hotter. Surely, he had to anticipate what she was about to show him?

“Oh? What is it?” He questioned sounding so oblivious.

Her left hand still holding his right, Blaze reached across with her own right hand. The feline still couldn’t look the hedgehog in the eye, even as the hand caught ablaze between them. She hoped the flame was small, just a burgeoning flame in the centre of her palm, but given her emotional state, it was more likely a fully grown flame. 

For a moment she tried to focus on anything else, the sounds beneath and the tase of desert, but a shift from the hedgehog killed that endeavour. His grasp left hers, causing but a moment’s panic, before both of his hands clasped around her wrist. She turned in his direction, eyes falling upon that new point of contact. Despite the suddenness of his movement, the hedgehog was being so gentle. He hadn’t grabbed her, he wasn’t pulling her, so what was he doing?

Blaze’s eyes drifted up to finally reunited with his face. Through the glow of her flame and the upward flickering of his embers, unbridled curiosity and amazement shone in yellow eyes tinted orange. The moment she saw his expression, the soft joy on his muzzle and his slightly damp quills slicked backwards, something went off in her chest. That internal change manifested externally, what was a palm sized fire burst and expanded to double its prior height.

She quickly pulled her hand away, flailing her hand in an attempt to snuff the heat. When that failed her, she reached across and palmed the back of the nearest snowman; with a hiss and some steam, her power was quenched. Before she could even think of turning back to him, Silver’s hands were already on her left arm.

“Blaze, that was incredible! Could you do that this whole time?” A realisation seemed to dawn upon him, triply confirming his obliviousness, “Now your name makes even more sense.”

“It took you long enough to realise,” She half grumbled, already feeling her heat return, “I wasn’t obvious, but I don’t think I hid it especially well.”

“I guess I just didn’t want to assume anything. People have all sorts of names for all sorts of reasons,” When she finally managed to turn to him again, Silver had shuffled even closer and was still glowing with excitement, “Is it the reason you’re not cold?”

“Yes, obviously. It’s also why I always come home dry, even when there’s a downpour,” The feline huffed, “You’re so naïve. I’m almost certain that anyone else would have noticed.”

These naïve interactions seemed to have the most profound effect on her. Something about being so very honest with him had made her fully revert to a haughtier attitude. It was as if she couldn’t stand exposing herself without simultaneously unveiling or scrutinising some aspect of him, trying to prove or find something for herself. This was all so new to her, but she immediately regretted each and every misstep. Despite her feelings though, nothing but excitement and admiration were shining on his face. Regardless of how he’d made the pie, the hedgehog himself was too sweet for her.

“So, your power isn’t a secret then? Am I the last person to figure it out?” He asked, so genuinely. She swore that he’d shuffled just a little bit closer. 

“Well, no. It is supposed to be a secret, but we’ve just been in such close proximity and…” She hesitated, catching herself before she could say anything else she’d regret, “Regardless, I’m just glad you know now. I was worried that I’d scare you off with it.”

His head cocked, “Why would your power scare me off? Aren’t we just the same?”

She wanted to call him a fool or naïve again, but she managed to bite her tongue. She knew what he meant, even if she didn’t agree. Trying not to think so much, she slipped her hand back into his.

With that as fuel, she found the right words, “If you think we are, then I suppose we are.”

“Either way; don’t worry, I won’t blab about your secret. I’m great at keeping them,” He promised, squeezing her hand, “In ten years, I’ve not told anyone what my soulmate wrote for me; I can keep quiet about something as simple as your power, don’t worry!”

As he kept prattling on, speaking his naïve assumptions and making verbose promises, Blaze couldn’t help but lean against the psychic. The combined force of her long day and relief at his response had broken the dam holding back her tiredness. Yawns broke past her lips as the conversation drifted back to work and the days ahead; eventually, her head even came to rest on his shoulder. Soulmate or not, Blaze had found the person she wanted to be with. He was no prince but, in a certain naïve way, he was certainly charming.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, if you would like more from this setting and story then please let me know in the comments!


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